Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
The fighter jumps to his feet. He’s about my height and build. Once he opens his mouth, that’s where our similarities end. “Got the name Naptime ’cause when my fist hits you, it’s lights out, sucka.” He dips and rips like he’s in the ring, evading his opponent’s attack, and then he throws a counterpunch.
I open my mouth and let out a loud, obnoxious yawn.
Naptime zeroes in on me and thrusts his fist in my direction. “Got something to say, pretty boy?”
“No, that’s impressive,” I deadpan.
The guy frowns as if he can’t tell if I’m making fun of him or not.
The corner of Matt’s mouth twitches. “Spicy. I like it.”
The next few names are so generic, I realize I shouldn’t have judged Naptime so fast—Rumbling Thunder, Snorting Bull, Powerful Pirate, Bear Trap, Hammer Fists. I guess mine’s not much more creative but at least it’s simple.
When it’s my turn, I nod to the other guys. “Stonewall— when my fists hit you, it’s like running into a stone wall.”
Naptime scoffs and rolls his eyes. Yeah, I guess I deserve that.
Another guy steps up, waving his arms around like he’s trying to scare away a flock of seagulls. “Deadass, cuz I ain’t fuckin’ around in the cage.”
“Bro, Deadass has a punchable face,” Venom whispers.
I bite my lip and nod.
A big guy with the squarest jaw I’ve ever seen and a perfectly round puff of white-blond curls raises his hand. If his arms and legs weren’t covered in the same white-blond fuzz, I’d assume he’d bleached his hair. “Woolly Mammoth.”
I would’ve guessed Merino Sheep, but okay.
“Because my fists will send you back to prehistoric times,” he finishes.
Are you sure, bud? I study Woolly’s face but there’s no hint of humor in his earnest expression.
Venom goes last. “I got my name from the joint locks and chokes I use to immobilize my opponent.”
So serious and specific. Assuming his background is in Brazilian jujitsu or aikido, I study him closer. His quiet, thoughtful approach should be scaring the shit out of these other guys. But they seem to dismiss him quickly. Must’ve never been put in a nerve hold. That shit hurts.
“That’s great,” Matt says, raising his voice over our chatter. “Do we all feel like we know each other better now? You’re going to be living and training together for weeks. So get comfortable with your housemates.”
Behind us there’s a clanging and shuffling. The whole group turns toward the sound. A guy behind a camera throws a hand signal to Matt.
“All right, gentlemen, we have a surprise for you.”
A deafening clickety-clacking echoes through the marble entryway.
Five women in short dresses and high heels strut into the room like they’re auditioning for a Vegas show. What the fuck?
“What’s going on?” Venom rumbles.
“Yeah, baby!” Deadass shouts, punching his fists in the air. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”
I hope I square off against Deadass first. Can’t wait to wipe the floor with his obnoxious face.
“No cage or octagon is complete without the lovely ladies who hold up the placards,” Matt says with a cheesy grin.
Ring girls. I can’t even protest. We employ plenty of them at The Castle. But no one ever mentioned they’d be part of this show.
“And if a few of you happen to find love, won’t that be romantic?” Matt adds.
What. The. Fuck? This is so not what I signed up for.
“But the numbers are uneven, so you’ll be competing against each other in the ring. And outside the ring, you’ll compete for the ladies’…affection.” The emphasis he puts on that last word makes my skin crawl.
“I didn’t sign up to be a fuckin’ john,” Venom sneers. “This isn’t cool.”
“The girls are here to elevate the fights,” another producer says with an indignant sniff that seems fake as fuck. I can’t take this dude seriously—his perfect eyebrows look like they were lacquered on with a toothbrush. “Not service you.”
“Bullshit,” I mutter. My gaze searches the room for Diane. She might be a sneaky bitch, but I respect her more than these other producers. Did she even know about this?
“Cool, then they don’t gotta stay in the house with us,” Bear Trap says.
“What he said.” Venom points at Bear Trap. At least I’m not the only one lacking enthusiasm for this new arrangement.
“The romantic aspect is an extra bonus for our contestants. And an element of suspense for your viewers,” Matt insists.
“Hard. Pass,” Bear Trap rumbles.
Deadass rubs his hands together and licks his lips, staring at the women like he’s ordering off a menu. “More for us.”
“Jesus Christ.” Venom groans. “I told my wife this was a serious show. Not some twisted UFC-Bachelor mashup.”
“Same,” I grumble. “This isn’t what I came for.”
“It’s a distraction technique.” Woolly taps his forehead. “Stay mentally strong. You can resist any temptation.”
“I’m not tempted. I have a girlfriend.” How could I be tempted by any woman other than Molly? I’m only here to win money for our future. If I wanted a mindless fuck, I could’ve done that at home. Not on the set of this twisted show where I have no doubt the producers will exploit any hookup to the max.